


I'll Make This Feel Like Home

by whathappenedinwellington



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming, Sub Harry, and gross amounts of domestic fluff, collaring, this is just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whathappenedinwellington/pseuds/whathappenedinwellington
Summary: Reason #42 - Breaking in a New ApartmentMoving is stressful but Louis knows exactly how to help Harry to relax.





	I'll Make This Feel Like Home

Moving is stressful.

Louis comes to terms with this notion the very first day he stores his very first belonging in his very first box.

Louis lived in one house growing up. The humble single story unit on the outskirts of Doncaster was the place he called home for the first 18 years of his life. Next came the on-campus dorm room in his first year of University in London. Louis felt suffocated in the bleak, off-white walls of the twin room, sparsely decorated and wreaking of two teenage boys co-existing in a space more adequately suited for a young child. Louis craved the home comforts the tiny room in London lacked, those of which he was used to back home in Doncaster with his mother and flock of sisters.

In the summer before his third year, Louis and his two best friends Zayn and Liam moved into a flat together. The second-floor, three bedroom apartment wasn’t special by any means, but there was a separate room for each occupant, a bathroom and kitchen which wasn’t communal, and _finally_ the freedom of living totally and completely independently.

It was also the very place Louis would meet the love of his life that very summer.

Two floors above Louis’ flat, on the fourth floor, housed a woman by the name of Gemma Styles. Gemma lived with her boyfriend Johnny, and Louis, Zayn and Liam became fast friends with the couple, often stopping for a chat by the mail room or bumping into one another in the elevator or stair well. They were all of similar age and crossed paths on the daily, so it was only natural when the five begun hanging out outside of the walls of the apartment complex.

Not long into the tentative friendship, a new face begun to linger around the fourth floor flat. Gemma’s younger brother Harry had temporarily moved in with the couple as his first year of University crept up, wanting to familiarise himself with the big city over the summer before moving in on campus at the commencement of semester. They clicked immediately, becoming almost inseparable as Louis took Harry under his wing, thrilled to re-immerse himself in the older brother role he craved while being away from his younger sisters, using his wisdom that came with two extra years to guide Harry through his first steps into adult life.

The brother role was quickly revoked, however, when the two ended up in bed together the night of the beginning of semester party, alcohol the instigator of the boys finally acting on their undeniable romantic and sexual feelings towards one another.

Louis wasn’t looking for love at University but love found him and thus began the relationship with the most beautiful man Louis could have ever dreamed of. Not even up in his head could he have conjured up a more perfectly fitting lover for him than Harry Styles.

Just like the other many things they had in common, Harry had also felt uninspired in his on-campus dorm room and the summer before his second year, he and his childhood best mate Niall had together found a flat that suited their admittedly small budget and moved in right before the beginning of semester. It worked out well for Louis and Harry as a couple in a two-year committed relationship. They weren’t in the right position logistically to find a place together, Louis having just signed another six months’ lease on his flat with Zayn and Liam, but they were now only a ten minute walk away from one another and continued to flourish as a couple in two separate spaces. That same year, Louis finished his degree and found work as a secondary school teacher.

Two years later, Harry had also finished his degree and Zayn had moved out, leaving Louis and Liam no choice but to also re-evaluate their own living situation too. He and Harry were strong but it still just wasn’t the right time, between Harry figuring out his first move career wise and Louis’ self-imposed duty to remain loyal to Liam and to share the weight of overpriced rent in London as a duo, the couple decided they didn’t need to live together to continue to be a solid unit. They had sleepovers most nights and it just _worked_ for them. Besides, they were a sure thing at the end of the day, they didn’t see the rush because after all, they had the rest of their lives.

Another year passed, both he and Harry were secure in their chosen professions and after five years of their relationship, they were finally beginning to feel the strain of living separately. They were surer of each other than they were the sun rising in the morning, marriage was brought up by family members, and discussion of children at some point in the future were not as sparse as they once were. It was time they stopped letting life get in the way and took the plunge.

So yes, moving is stressful.

But moving with Harry trumps all because if stressing was a competitive sport, Harry would win gold for the country.  

It begun with the initial search for a flat. Figuring out their ideal location was easy with them both working in the same general area, it was the financial side of things that proved to be most challenging. Louis was more willing to sacrifice when it came to luxuries while Harry was not. Louis had a mind for the future, wanting to lower their budget so as to save for a house later down the track. Harry could not rationalise this, their budget was already low for what they were looking for and he did not see the sense in restricting themselves when there was no dire need to. It was one of the first major arguments they’d had as a couple, so early into the moving process Louis was already ready to give in to the idea that he and his boyfriend were made, _destined_ , to live apart for the rest of their lives.

Two days and a dose of wet kissed apologies and a box of Chinese takeout later, Harry had presented him with the most extraordinarily, stupidly perfect flat he’d stumbled across online. The only setback, however, was the move in date which required Harry to sign an extra, rather pricey, special one month contract in his flat. Louis’ own lease ended two months prior and moving half a flats worth of things into Harry and Niall’s two bedroom apartment was an admittedly difficult task. As Niall and Harry too begun to pack for their imminent departure, the boxes and bags begun to really stack up and space to simply _move_ became somewhat of a luxury. Harry was the first to become irritable as he struggled to juggle work and the time consumption that came with the big move—planning, purchasing and organising until all hours of the morning. Louis found it ridiculous but Harry was a perfectionist and if online shopping for sofa cushions before bed was going to help him sleep better, then Louis wasn’t going to argue.

In fact, anything that made Harry sleep better, Louis was on board with. That’s how he found himself agreeing to complete the move entirely on their own—no removalists, no friends, just him and Harry and his boyfriends piece of mind that everything was going to be done right and be _perfect_.

~~~

Louis wraps his arms around Harry from behind, burying his nose in the wispy curls at the base of his neck. He inhales deeply, eyelids fluttering closed as the familiar scent of Harry’s raspberry shampoo floods through his senses and tickles his sinuses. He presses his front closer, lining himself completely against Harry’s back as he hooks his chin over his shoulder. Harry melts into his hold easily.

“Is it straight?” Harry asks, exhaustion evident in his voice, soft and a little bit croaky. 

Louis’ turns his face into Harry’s neck, pressing a delicate kiss into Harry’s pulse point before pressing their cheeks together and following Harry’s gaze. They’re standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, _their_ bedroom, in their new flat and a quick glance across the space to the opposite wall has a wide smile stretching across Louis’ face.

Harry’s hung up the photo he’d had in his former bedroom of his _former_ flat, the photo of the two of them with Harry’s mum from Gemma and Johnny’s wedding day last year. It’s a ridiculous photo, Louis squishing both of Harry’s alcohol-rosy cheeks together with his own head throw back on a laugh, Anne watching on fondly by their side with a flute of champagne not so delicately poised in her left hand, one degree away from spillage. Louis was a little tipsy, sure, but he knows a more traditional photo was taken directly after this one, one where they were all smiling nicely towards the camera but for whatever reason, Harry adores this candid shot and Louis adores Harry so he beams at the silly photo adorning their bedroom wall.

“Think so, yeah,” Louis says, squinting at the frame. He pinches Harry’s hip, cocking his head to peer at his side profile. “Look at us, eh? Just one day and we’ve got this place all but unpacked.”  

Harry snorts. He turns himself around in Louis hold so they come face to face. Louis’ arms stay looped around Harry’s waist loosely, hands linked by his fingers and resting in the dip at the base of Harry’s spine, Harry draping his own over Louis’ shoulders. He leans in for a chaste kiss, sighing contentedly as he pulls back.

“You’re kidding yourself if you think we’re almost done, babe.” Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding his head to a place over Louis’ shoulder, into the main area of the flat. “There is so much shit lying around on this floor. I can see about 8—no, 9 completely sealed boxes. The TV is sitting on top of a box and we don’t even have a couch.” He raises his pointer finger. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on the fridge. Did I tell you they called me back again? Saying they can’t deliver until after the weekend now. How are we supposed to live without a fridge for almost a week?” he whines, burying his face in Louis’ neck. His voice has become progressively more strained as the octave raises with his anxious ramblings. “Why did we both let our roommates keep our fridges? Why are we such good friends?”

Louis snorts a laugh, tucking his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair and cupping the back of his head. He uses his blunt nails to scratch at his scalp slightly, in the way that he knows relaxes him. “God, I know. Why weren’t we born arseholes?” he jokes, amused to play along with Harry’s dramatics.

“It would’ve made this process a whole lot easier,” Harry agrees, snuggling his face deeper into the crook of Louis’ neck, humming at the feeling of Louis’ fingers in his hair. “I’m done for today. We’ve been going since 6. That’s a good amount of time to warrant a clock off.” His voice is muffled into Louis’ skin and even after all these years together, Louis has to fight off the shiver caused by the vibrations of Harry’s deep rumble again his skin.

It’s true, though. Louis distinctly recalls catching the digits 5:45 on the microwave clock this morning as Harry went down on him right there in the kitchen of his and Niall’s (now _former_ ) flat over toast and orange juice. It was a tremendous farewell to the flat that served Harry so well for the last few years, exactly the celebration it deserved.  Of course, they’d said a _proper_ goodbye to the bedroom where so many firsts had occurred and so many discoveries had been made the night before.

Louis draws Harry’s face from his neck with a hand in the back of his hair. “How about we do one more box?” he asks, cheekily smiling up at Harry, plan already formulating in his mind.

Harry emits a whine from the back of his throat, immediately dropping his face back into Louis neck. “Louis.”

Louis can feel the lax exhaustion in Harry’s body as he guides him back against the wall, unclasping his hands from behind his back and squeezing his waist. Harry frowns down at him. He’s all but pouting and Louis is so fucking endeared by this ridiculous man.

“I was thinking,” Louis starts, hot breath right by Harry’s ear eliciting a shiver down Harry’s spine. “We could unpack all of our bathroom stuff. All the fancy bubbles and soaps and scrubs and salts, yeah? Have a soak in our new tub, together. Put some candles out and just let ourselves have a bit of relaxation. Loosen up our muscles a bit. How does that sound, gorgeous?”

Harry hums. He has his head resting back against the wall, eyes having fluttered close somewhere along the way. “Sounds absolutely perfect. I’m relaxed already. Tell me more.”

Louis chuckles fondly, extracting his body from Harry’s and holding out his hand. “I left the bathroom boxes in the ensuite. Why don’t you go and pick out some stuff and start the bath up? I’ll grab those fancy candles you put it in the entry way. We can just use those for tonight until we re-stock on the little, non-scented ones we use for bath time.”

Harry hums a happy noise, already appearing more at ease as he takes Louis’ hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “Could you grab my bottle of water too, babe? It’s on the kitchen counter.”

Louis leans in, capturing Harry’s lips in a sweet peck. “’Course I can. I’ll be two secs.”

With that he drops Harry’s hand and turns on his heel, making his way out into the main area of the flat.

It really does look like a bomb has gone off out here, boxes in various states of unpacked taking up the majority of the area with bits of plastic and bubble wrap strewn out across the rest of the space. There’s random bits and bobs lying around on every surface too—Louis’ school stuff spread all over the floor where a dining table should be and a pile of books, CD’s and DVDS belonging to both of them splayed out over the top and to the side of the shelving that used to once only house Harry’s, struggling to carry the volume of the two of them. Next to the hazardously leaning pile of pots and pans on the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of framed pictures and artwork that had earlier been carefully unwrapped though quickly abandoned when they realised they should probably prioritise getting the necessities unpacked before moving onto the decorating part. It was early in the day, clearly, their thinking too wishful.

Louis can’t help but to smile at the mess, perfectly organised in his eyes. All of his and his loves belongings blending together so seamlessly, creating something that feels just like them—just like _home_. It brings a pleasant flutter of butterflies to his stomach.

_This is the rest of my life._

The flat is a humble two bedroom, fairly open plan and a great size for their budget. The design is modern, with high ceilings and a clean, white colour scheme and marble finishes. It’s so perfect that Louis feels like it must have specifically been made for them.

There’s a gleeful hitch in his step as he promptly collects everything he’d set out for. Snagging the grand, deep-purple candles that adorn the entry way stand next to the rather pricey key’s bowl they’d purchased from a cute little home store in Nottingham they’d stopped at the last time they made the trek up north, he tucks them under his arm before making a beeline towards the kitchen for Harry’s water bottle. His eyes catch on the little housewarming delivery they’d received from Anne earlier, a bottle of rich red wine and a gorgeous bloom of dusty pink and white peonies, the exact flower Louis distinctly remembers telling Anne (a little rosé´ tipsy, might he add) that he wants to have at his and Harry’s wedding one day, he notes with a fond smile. _Very subtle, Anne_. The card which reads: _“Do I hear wedding bells?”_ may have been the bigger hint though. He shrugs, hitching the wine up under his arm easily, only hesitating for a moment before plucking a few stems from the vase too.

When Louis re-enters the bathroom, it’s to the sight of a completely naked Harry perched against the side of the tub. He’s half bent over with his arm swirling around the water under the gushing tap, his soft cock lying against his thigh and his hair flowing loosely over his shoulders, a little bit crimped in places from being tied back all day. He looks like an expensive artwork with his porcelain-like skin and his legs that, while bent at the knee and jut inwards, look a mile long where they hang daintily over the edge of the tub.

The bath tub in the ensuite was one of the major decision makers when it came to this place. Harry has always loved a good bath and in the three years of their relationships, he’s persuaded Louis into enough of them that he’s become quite the fan himself. The two would often relax together in the tub, combining Harry’s two favourite things he’d like to spend an unnecessary amount of money on—bath bombs and candles.

The new tub is a claw foot, something Louis initially thought was a little old school but was proven utterly wrong when he saw Harry’s reaction. Harry absolutely adored the peanut shaped, free standing basin and detached tap, absolutely gushing about them until they ultimately took the plunge and applied for the flat which seemed a little too good to be true. So far, it’s proved to be a successful risk.

“Pulled out all the stops tonight,” Harry says without looking back at him, obviously sensing his presence behind him. His hand continues to swirl around the filling water, voice slightly amplifying around the walls of the not quite full tub. “Used some of that fancy relaxation oil I got when we went to Paris last year. I don’t even let myself use it often so I hope you feel spoilt that you’re getting a soak in it.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, creeping up behind him to peer over his shoulder. He dumps the candles, water and wine onto the vanity before stepping up behind Harry and resting his palms against his shoulders as he continues to swirl the purple tinted water around, feeling his naked muscles shift underneath his palms. “The ridiculously pricey one you kept on display on the shelf on the vanity at your old place and didn’t speak to me for a full day after I accidently knocked it over and spilt the tiniest bit? That one?”

Harry chuckles, peaking over his shoulder. “The very one. It’s lavender so it’s super relaxing and I know how weird you can get about sleeping in new spaces so I thought this one might help you get your best night’s rest.” Louis’ heart swells. It still floors him to this this day of the capacity to which Harry knows him. It’s things like this, random little quirks, ones that he doesn’t necessarily have to say out loud for Harry to recognise and understand. “Plus,” he drawls with a sigh, “I could do with a little relaxation, if I’m honest.”

“You don’t say,” Louis mocks, digging his thumb into the tight muscle running down Harry’s shoulder. Harry hisses slapping Louis’ hands away.

“You’re awful.”

Louis rolls his eyes, giving Harry a little nudge forwards. “Go on, hop in. I’ll give you a proper rub.”

Harry throws him a suggestive look of his shoulder. Wiggling his eyebrows, he suggestively purrs, “A proper rub, eh?”

“Get in.” Louis shakes his head fondly. “Ridiculous, ridiculous boy,” he mumbles to himself.

Louis strips his own clothes while Harry shuts the tap off and steps into the water which now fully dilated, emits a lovely soft lavender aroma.

He takes his cigarette lighter out of the back pocket of his jeans as he steps out of them, feeling Harry’s sleepy gaze as he lights each of the five candles and scatters them across the vanity and flicks the main light off. He picks up the bottle of wine from the vanity, pressing the glass against the side of Harry’s bicep.

“Add to the treat?”

Harry sighs gratefully, taking the bottle and beginning to twist at the cap immediately.

Louis begins to tug off the rest of his clothes as he watches Harry tip his head back and take a generous gulp, mesmerised by the way his elongated throat shifts as he swallows. Mostly though, he can’t help but to laugh, the image in front of him a little bit ridiculous. “Sorry,” he chuckles behind his hand, when Harry turns to him with a questioning looks. “This was supposed to be a more tasteful gesture, instead of chugging fancy wine out of the bottle but, you know— “

“We haven’t unpacked any glasses yet,” Harry finishes with a grand exhale. There’s a tense furrow between his brows that has become such a permanent fixture throughout this whole moving process that Louis doesn’t think he’d recognise him without it.

“Less dishes this way, eh?” Louis quips. He softly taps the back of Harry’s shoulder closest to him with two fingers. “Budge up. Let me in, I want to see what all the hype is for the fancy lavender oil.”

Harry does as told and Louis steps in behind him, slowly lowering himself into the water as his body adjusts to the ridiculously hot temperature which Harry insists on running his baths at. He cradles the flank of Harry’s body with his knees before slowly spreading them out and leaning back against the lip of the tub. He pulls Harry back with him as he goes and revels in the contented sigh Harry breathes as he settles against Louis’ chest. Louis wraps his arms around his waist, tips his head back and lets his eyes flutter shut. There’s a heaviness in his muscles that tell him they’re going to be sore tomorrow and the warm water as well as Harry’s solid body against them feels like absolute heaven.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable, babe,” Harry says, tone teasing. He lolls his head back against Louis’ shoulder, raising his eyebrows at him. “I believe you promised me a massage.”

Louis pinches his hip and the elbow he gets in the abdomen as Harry jerks back in surprise is undoubtedly his karma.  

“And I believe I got us that wine to share.”

“No. My mum got us the wine. You just brought it in here,” Harry quips, before tipping his head back and taking another swig straight from the bottle.

“Yep,” Louis affirms, plucking the bottle with Harry’s lips still wrapped around it. A few drops of wine dribble down his chin as he indignantly squawks in protest, laughter infused in it. “And I brought it in here with the intention of being shared.” He brings the bottle up to his own mouth, taking a little sip before leaning over the edge of the tub and placing it on the ground.

“Whatever. Just rub me.”

Louis brings two fingers up to his forehead, giving Harry a lazy salute. “Yes, sir.”

He begins with simply running his palms over the water slick planes of Harry’s back, feeling Harry relax into his touch and the tension in his muscles lessen. When Harry’s completely pliant underneath his touch he brings his hands up to his neck and begins to knead at the tight muscles there. He slowly works his way down Harry’s back, following the path of his hands with a trail of kisses, encouraged by the soft noises of pleasure it draws from Harry. When he makes it to the bottom of Harry’s back, he makes his way back up.

“So how’s the bath living up to expectations?” he whispers into Harry’s skin, punctuating the question with a lingering kiss on the centre of his back. “As good as you hoped?”

“Better,” Harry hums, reaching to his side and wrapping his hand around Louis’ thigh. He strokes over it with his thumb gently, so idle Louis doesn’t even think he realises he’s doing it. “I love it. We both fit a bit more comfortably than my last one.”

Louis makes a noise of agreement as he drops another soft kiss onto Harry’s back. “Mine was pretty big. You hardly ever wanted to use it though.”

“The tap was shit, though,” Harry retorts. His voice is a low rumble now, slow and relaxed. “Took forever to fill up. Couldn’t be bothered with it most of the time.”

Louis laughs softly. “Don’t have to worry about that now, do we?” he whispers as he leans his head against the back of Harry’s shoulder, pressing his cheek into the skin there as he continues to work his fingers into the muscle of his neck.

“Right there,” Harry all but moans, tilting his head as Louis works his thumb into a particularly nasty knot at the side of his neck. “Ah, ah. Little higher.”

“Here?” Louis asks, digging in a little higher. He feels Harry’s shoulders tense in response and knows he’s right on the money. “Relax, babe. Going to make you feel better. You’ll be stiff as a post tomorrow if I don’t work these out.”

His words seem to help, Harry’s shoulders visibly dropping as his body becomes pliant under Louis’ hands once more. He makes a few noises, grunts of pain as Louis digs into certain areas and soft sighs of pleasure as he loosens up a particularly tight spot, but after a while his moans turn into something else. Something deeper, something more _guttural_. Louis peaks over his shoulder to see that Harry is completely hard, just from Louis’ fingers kneading into the muscles of his neck, shoulders and upper back. Louis swipes his tongue across his lips quickly before ducking down and attaching them to the side of Harry’s neck.

He feels Harry let out a shuddering breath as Louis opens his mouth, gently sucking the sensitive skin right below Harry’s ear, just like he knows he loves. He leaves a trail of kisses across his neck, down to the point of his shoulder, before pulling back and blowing cool air against the wet skin, watching as goose bumps erupt across Harry’s skin.

“Good?” Louis asks, a hint of teasing in his voice knowing very well how affected he is.

Harry whines in response, gracelessly turning in Louis’ hold, water splashing over the edge of the tub as he settles himself with his knees on either side of Louis’ hips. Their lips connect in a flurry of flailing limps and wavy water as they wrap themselves completely around one another. Louis settles his hands on either side of Harry’s jaw, chasing the familiar taste of Harry with his tongue until they’re both breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

“Louis,” Harry exhales, breathlessly. He needs more.

Louis slides his palms down Harry’s chest, basking in the feeling of his stomach muscles jumping when his fingertips roughly travel over Harry’s raised nipples. The path of his hand takes a last minute route change, quickly by-passing Harry’s cock, wrapping around his hip to press against the bottom of his back, pulling him in closer. Their cocks press together with a moan shared between their mouths.

“Ngh,” Harry groans, breaking away from this kiss. He grinds down on Louis’ cock once, grinning madly when he asks, “Are we about to Christen the new flat?”

Louis reaches out, pulling Harry back into another kiss by the back of the neck. He pulls back with a smirk. “I think we have to, love. It’s mandatory, I’d say.”

Harry nods, reaching up to pinch his lip between two fingers, staring down at Louis from beneath his eyelashes. He leans in, parted lips barely touching Louis’ skin as they travel from the corner of his mouth and across his cheek, until he’s breathing hotly against his ear. “I want you to take me in our new bed.”

Louis’ brain momentarily short circuits because that’s the fucking hottest thing he’s ever heard, combined with that stupidly sexy voice of Harry’s, deep and velvety and twined with lust and desire.  Right by his ear, so hot and clear it sends a shiver down Louis’ spine. _Take me._

Like every emotion he has in life, he covers it up with humour. “We don’t have a new bed.”

It’s true though, they have saved wherever they could. Louis’ bed frame, because it was a better match for the décor, and Harry’s mattress, because the nights he spent on Louis’ always made him wake with a twinge in his lower back. Perhaps that wasn’t from the mattress though. Oops.

“Take me in our new flat, then,” Harry amends, pressing their mouths together. He arches his back, pressing their bodies closer until their chests are completely aligned. The elevated beat of his heart against Louis’ own is simultaneously grounding and absolutely dizzying. “I want you to take me in our new bedroom. Spread me out of our bed, _our_ bed, and fuck me,” he breathes, words rushed and unsteady with his own arousal. “Take me, baby. Take me.”

Louis runs his tongue over the seam of his lips when Harry pulls back and settles him with _that_ _look_ , so full of lust and desire. Louis’ eyes flick towards the open door of the bedroom and back to Harry. He makes his mind up when he sees that spark in Harry’s eyes. That glimmer of sheer want and _need_. It’s been a long and stressful day, long and stressful few months really, and Louis knows what Harry needs, knows before Harry does. Louis wants to relieve him of his worries, wants to let him slip under. Submit.

It’s been a while since they played and perhaps it’s what they both really need. It’s subconscious and the sudden desire to fulfil it has Louis’ head spinning pleasantly. It’s like a drug and suddenly Louis is having withdrawals. And well, Harry wanted to christen the new flat and Louis really can’t think of a better way to do so. Starting off with a bang and that.

“Why don’t you hop out, dry yourself off and wait for me on the bed?” Louis suggests, voice gentle but with a clear underlying question, leaving Harry room to opt out if he chooses. It has been a long day after all. He always gives him the option, never wants to make him feel pressured. “Want to do that, love? Want to do that for me?”

Louis swears he sees Harry’s pupils dilate as he processes Louis’ words, sees the immediate spike of arousal in Harry’s features as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and nods, already slipping into his role.

Louis leans in for one more sweet kiss before tapping his hip twice. “Okay. Get yourself nice and dry. When I come in I want you kneeling at the end of the bed. Okay, love?”

Harry nods and Louis levels him with a challenging look. _Words, use your words_ , it reads. Harry knows that Louis won’t continue without verbal affirmation.

“Yes. Please.”

Louis nods once; that’s all he needs.

Harry stands, bath water trickling down the contours of his body as he steps out the bath and onto the tiles, water undoubtedly pooling on the floor around his feet. He reaches for one of the two towels Louis had left on the vanity, standing in front of him as he hastily dries his body, running the towel over his legs and up to his face before tipping his head and rubbing over the ends of his hair. The flickering light of the candle flames dance around the dark room, making it seem like all of Harry’s movements are in slow motion. All the strong lines of Harry’s body more prominent and his skin looks like it’s made of the finest silk as tiny streaks of water track their way down his firm body. Louis couldn’t look away if he tried.

He drapes the wet towel back over the vanity as he runs a shaky hand through his hair, Louis’ eyes tracking his every motion as he stays seated in the bath.

“Good boy. In the bedroom now, please. I’ll be there soon. Don’t forget what I’ve asked you to do.”

As Harry retreats, Louis sits there in the bath for an extra moment, contemplating. He wraps his hand around his half hard cock and takes a grounding breath, filling his lungs before blowing it out on a shaky exhale.

After four years of exploring this side of their relationship, it’s no less exciting than the very first time. It’s not something they always do, but Louis thinks it has definitely become quite an integral part of their relationship. It’s become a part of them—as individuals and as a couple.  

Louis could sense the submissive qualities in Harry from the beginning. In his day to day life, Harry was a very independent and self-determined person. Moving away from his small village in Cheshire to London had barely fazed Harry, he was strong and confident and so brave, but when their relationship began to blossom and every waking moment was spent between the bed sheets, Louis saw a shift. The headstrong and outspoken man would transform into a boy, seemingly so young, willing to take only what Louis would give him. The further the pleasure engulfed him, the higher his voice would become and the more lost he would get in the headspace where he felt like he had to plead with Louis, _beg_ for what he wanted. Louis had brought it up once candidly, only a few weeks into their relationship. Harry had blushed profusely, squirmed under Louis’ gaze as he told him he’d only ever slept with one other person before, shrugged as he came to the conclusion that he was still yet to fully warm up to being confident sexually. He’d said it was still new to him and dropped his gaze to his lap as he told Louis he still feels like he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, doesn’t know how to please Louis properly. Louis took his hand, reassured him that he had nothing to worry about, but still didn’t quite believe his explanation. He’s not sure Harry really did either but they both weren’t ready to really explore it so Louis kept his mouth shut.

After that, they really did gradually fall into it until they both knew it was time to sit down and talk it out. Establish rules and boundaries, ways to figure out what they both liked and didn’t like in a safe and loving environment.  To this day, Louis still thinks it’s the most adult thing he’s ever done. They’ve gotten good at communicating and exploring and reading each other but they’ve always been very cautious of safety with the things they practice. Safe words and limits and establishing boundaries before diving into new things. Their dynamic had grown with them until they were exploring this side of their sexualities together, the side neither of them had ever dared to touch.

To this day, their dynamics are still ever changing and Louis thinks that is what’s most exciting about it. They’re constantly discovering new things and trying out different things.

Louis gives himself a few tight tugs, the anticipation building the longer he sits in the lukewarm bath. He hops out eventually, drying himself off quickly. His skin feels soft and refreshed and all he can think about is getting his hands on Harry’s.

As expected, when Louis steps into the room, Harry is on his knees at the end of the bed, hands clasped behind his back and eyes cast down to the carpet between his legs. He doesn’t look up when Louis approaches but he knows he is there, evident by the noticeable way his breathing picks up.

In front of my him looks like something from his deepest fantasies. Pale pink flower petals from the bunch of peonies scattered across the bed with Harry, his beautiful Harry, all broad shouldered and bowed head, on his knees for him as he’d asked. Obeying him. Louis can’t wait to get him on the bed, flower petals soft and sensual beneath his back as Louis has his way with him, rough and dirty.

“Good boy,” Louis murmurs mostly to himself, taking his position behind Harry. He cards his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair, watching the minute tilt of his head before he catches himself leaning into the contact and re-straightening his posture. “My good boy. Always good for me. Always do as I say, don’t you? Hmm?”

Louis runs a light fingertip down the length of Harry’s spine, watching the muscles there flex and contract with the gentle, barely-there touch. Harry releases a shaky breath, a tiny whimper mixing in with it. The minute change of angle when Harry shifts his head back shows off the smooth gleam of expensive leather at the back of his neck. His collar.

Louis hooks his finger in it, running his thumb over the cool material before giving it a quick tug. “Couldn’t let this one get too far away, eh?”

Harry gasps, dropping his head forwards.

The collar is still a reasonably new addition to their play time but it was probably the best addition they’ve ever made. It was the perfect indicator and Harry loved the comfort of having something secure around his neck while he was submitting.  Not to mention the thrill he got when Louis would tug on it like this, inhibit his airways for a moment before he’d pull back and Harry would be gasping for air. Louis would do it right when he was on the brink of release and revel in the beautiful way it would tip Harry right over the edge.

“You can speak, baby,” Louis murmurs, pulling the collar aside and nipping at the sensitive skin beneath it.

“Louis,” Harry immediately croaks. He sounds like he’s already been fucked and it sends a spark right through Louis’ stomach and straight to his cock. “Wanna be good for you. Just wanna be good. Always.”

Louis smiles, smoothing Harry’s hair back once more before shuffling back a bit on his knees.

“Hands on the bed for me, baby,” he whispers, gentle palms smoothing over Harry bum. Harry’s whine is strained as he does as he’s told, leaning forwards and flattening his forearms against the bed. Louis places his palm against the centre of Harry’s back, applying a light pressure. “Front down, gorgeous. Chest against the bed, please.”

Louis hears the sharp intake of breath Harry releases as he flattens himself against the bed, shifting his legs unsteadily as his bum sticks out. Louis knows how much Harry loves this position, loves to feel so exposed and vulnerable like this. It’s naughty and exhilarating and perfectly plays into their dynamic. Harry, always so trusting and willing to give himself completely over to Louis and Louis, always right behind him, pushing him.

“You like being like this, huh?” Louis asks, though he knows the answer. His runs his hands down Harry’s back and around to his hips, pulling him further out, watching the way the arch of Harry’s back slopes even further. “All open and ready for me, aren’t you? You look so good, gorgeous, so good for me.”

Harry whines, pressing his cheek further into the mattress.  “Yes. So good. So good.”

His hair has fallen forwards again, tumbling loosely all over his face with the wet tips clumping together and sticking to his skin. He truly is a vision with bits of blotchy skin and red, bitten lips peeking through. Louis reaches out and combs his hair back off his face again, feels Harry’s breathing pause while his fingers come into contact.

_Anticipation_.

Louis rests back on his hunches on the carpeted floor. His knees come to rest between Harry’s and he runs his palms teasingly up the inside of them. Louis barely hears the desperate whine it draws from Harry, just feels the way his diaphragm moves with it.

It’s comical really, Harry will talk your ear off usually but when he loses himself in pleasure like this, he’s completely quiet. Perhaps it’s practice, etiquette for their now former roommates, but by any means, it’s one of the hottest things to Louis. The way he can render Harry, his sweet, bubbly Harry, to this completely overwhelmed state of mind is positively dizzying.

“I can’t continue until you tell me, gorgeous. Need to know you’re still with me and need you to tell me you’re okay to continue, yeah?”

“Please,” is what Harry manages and that’s enough for Louis.

Smoothing his palms over the curve of Harry’s bum, Louis leans down and rests his face against his left cheek.

“Going to make you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, turning his face and breathing the words right into his skin. “Need you to stay nice and still for me, okay? Arms staying against the bed for me.”

“Yes, Lou,” Harry chokes out.

Louis hums, rotating his face a bit further so that he’s breathing right between Harry’s cheeks, feeling the jerk of Harry’s stomach as he exhales onto the sensitive area.

“No touching yourself.”

Harry whines, shoulders trembling as he aches to push back into the phantom touch Louis’ breath mimics. He doesn’t though, he just pants roughly and tightens his grip on the fistful of the duvet in each hand.

“Won’t. Won’t touch, Lou,” he gasps on one breath. “Just—please! Please touch me. Please, Lou.”

Louis smirks, using his thumbs to spread Harry’s cheeks open. He watches his rim clench and relax around nothing three times before brushing his thumb over it.

“Ah! Lou…”

He leans down immediately, helpless not to, planting a wet kiss directly over Harry’s hole. He grips the meat of Harry’s arse, using a firm grip with both hands to hold Harry open as he uses his tongue to circle around his rim teasingly. His taste is intoxicating, fresh and clean but his arousal is coming through sharp and musty.

“Taste so good,” he growls, flattening his tongue and licking a greedy stripe up Harry’s entire crack. He feels Harry shudder, a choked off noise escaping his lips.

_Beautiful_ , Louis thinks as he trails a hand down to his own erection. His knees shuffle a little on the carpet as begins absentmindedly kneading the heel of his palm into his cock while he continues to work Harry up with the wetness of his mouth. He muffles a groan in Harry arse as he grinds into his own palm, feeling the vibrations of it reverberate all the way through Harry and causing him to shiver.

It’s so much. So hot. He needs to lay down.

“Fuck,” he groans breathlessly as he pulls back, wrapping his hand fully around his cock as he wipes at his spit slick face with the back of his other wrist. “Stay there.”

Louis stands on unsteady feet, his knees only protesting a touch as he straightens them out. He glances down quickly and sees that his knees have onto turned a little red, the soft carpet in the new bedroom mostly protected them from friction burning. Nice.

Crawling onto the bed, Louis rearranges the pillows a little slower than strictly necessary, arching his back and sticking his bum out.

“Louis,” Harry whines, tremor in his voice. “Fuck. Louis, I want… I need—“

Louis grins to himself, pleased. Straightening his features out, he swiftly flops onto his back and raises his eyebrows at Harry from the end of the bed. He looks positively torn, ready to burst out of his skin with his hunger to get to Louis but so eager to please, to obey Louis and stay knelt over the end of the bed. His hands stay obediently against the mattress.

“Please,” his voice cracks with the weak plea.

“Up here,” Louis breaths, cocking his head in one swift motion after a few moments of heavy eye contact. Harry looks like a man possessed as he begins crawling up his body. His face is beautifully flushed and his eyes enticingly dark, Louis almost gives in for a second, let’s him unknowingly follow his instruction wrong. He doesn’t, though. He pinches the duvet between his fingers until his knuckles turn white, tutting, “Uh uh. Other way. Bum up here, baby.”

Harry halts his motion immediately, pausing for a second before he’s scrambling to comply. Gracelessly turning his body and crawling backwards up Louis’ body and planting a knee to his chest in his haste. This, Louis does let slide. He blames it on the heady aroma that can only be described as _sex_ as Harry’s groin hovers over his face, his arousal pungent and oh so louring in this position and Louis’ mouth positively waters. Clean like lavender, but rich like sex. He’s drunk on it already.

He slides his palm up the length of Harry’s spine, propping his cock up with his other as his hand reaches the back of Harry’s head. He guides him down slowly with a firm grip on the back of the hair. He can feel Harry’s hot breath on the head of his cock but he just lets him hover there for a second. He knows this is the absolute best kind of torture for Harry, can feel him practically vibrating with the need to get his mouth around him. He loves to please, it’s his primary arouser, and to be so close like this but not be able to touch is quite testing. He knows he’s not allowed to touch either, hands dutifully gripping the sheets by Louis’ hips but itching to travel inwards, to touch Louis and to feel his skin on his own.

He doesn’t though. “Good boy,” Louis praises. Always praising. They’ve learned through this journey that it’s not so much the lack of control that Harry craves in his need to submit, it’s his desire to obey, to receive orders and to comply. To be good and be praised for that. There’s no other feeling for him than making _Louis_ feel good so Louis is always sure to let him hear how good he’s doing and watch the way it effects Harry, makes him throw his head back and moan, just like he does now.

Louis takes the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth at the same time as he pushes Harry’s head down to take his own cock into his mouth. He grips the back of Harry’s collar as he sets a pace for him, tugging him up and down on his cock as he moans around Harry’s cock in his own mouth, feeling his arousal from two points.

Louis eventually let’s go of the collar in favour of burrowing his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair as he digs his heals into the mattress and slowly, methodically begins to fuck up into Harry’s mouth.

He pulls off Harry’s cock with a tight suction. “Such a good boy. Fuck, baby, feel so good on me,” he babbles, tightening his grip in the back of Harry’s hair. The resulting moan from Harry vibrates around him, more nonsense dribbling from his lips. “So good at this, aren’t you? Love your mouth. Your dirty little mouth.”

Harry groans loudly around his cock, letting Louis guide his head to take him deeper. Not just letting him, _basking_ in it.

He sporadically works his tongue around the sensitive head of Harry’s cock while he talks, filthy little nothings spewing from his mouth, loving the way Harry’s body quivers on top of his. He trails his tongue down the shaft, over the back of his balls to his arse.

Harry chokes a little bit right as he does it and Louis yanks him off immediately, giving him a second to splutter and get his breath back, before he’s pushing him straight back down.

He chokes again almost immediately. “Easy, baby. Easy,” he whispers, poking his tongue and swirling it around his rim once before pushing it right past the ring of muscle.

Harry pulls off with a choked breath, sputtering. “Louis. Ah, I can’t. I can’t,” he pants. “Gonna come.”

His hips quiver, aching to fuck down, to chase his release. Louis holds them up. “Don’t come.”

Harry whines, it sounds pained. His hips do jerk down this time, though Louis hands are still there, firm on his hips, to prevent them from actually gaining any friction. It only serves to rile Harry up even further, a desperate noise falling from his lips. “Need to, Louis. Ngh—need to come. Please!”

Louis holds his hips steady as he leans back in, sucking around Harry’s rim. Harry moans brashly.  “That’s it, baby, get it out, let me hear you.” Another flick of the tongue. “I’m not done with you yet. You come and it’s all over, okay? You come and we stop, do you want that, baby?”

Harry sucks in a breath. “No! Gotta make you come first. Gotta—“ He takes Louis back into his mouth, desperate and frustrated as he tightens his lips around the shaft and bobs his head frantically, from base to tip.

Louis groans, losing the battle with his urge to fuck up into Harry’s mouth. “Yeah, good boy,” he praises as he grips a hand in the back of Harry’s hair. He muffles a moan into Harry’s arse, using his free hand to trace around Harry’s balls. They’re tight to his body, dark and flushed. Louis’ own ache in sympathy.

The noises that are coming from Harry as he works his mouth over Louis’ cock are positively filthy. The wet sucking sounds are mixed in with a constant steam of desperate whimpers, high pitched and clearly uncontrollable to Harry. There’s so much saliva and every time Harry audibly swallows around him, wet and messy, he thinks he’s going to lose it.

He gives as much back, using the spit he’s worked up around Harry’s entrance to add a finger, working his tongue around it as he roughly strokes his walls. Louis can hear the harsh breaths Harry’s sucking in through his nose but his efforts don’t waver and Louis _really_ thinks he’s going to lose it soon.

He tugs him off by the back of the collar with a choked cough from Harry. He sits up, pushing Harry onto the mattress and gently rolling him onto his back.

“Baby, gorgeous.” Louis needs him back for a second. He strokes over his cheek. “Harry,” he says firmly. “Condoms? Do we have any?”

Harry eyes are still glossed over but Louis can see the little bit of clarity in them as he wipes over his brow with the back of his wrist, lays his head back and points towards the bathroom. “I packed them in my toiletries. On the vanity in the front zip. Lube is in there, too.”

Louis nods, taking in Harry spread out next to him, his hard cock resting against his stomach with an angry red flush and leaking profusely from the tip. Harry’s hands remain dutifully by his side and while the lover side of Louis aches for him, the dominant side of him is bursting with pride. He reaches out squeezing the base of Harry’s cock, emitting a surprised yelp from him at the sudden strong pressure.

“No touching yourself. Hands on the headboard, please.” And just like that, they’re back.

Harry shudders, hands trembling as he lifts them above his head and grips onto the bars of the bed frame with a vice like grip. His brows are furrowed as if he were in deep concentration, though his eyes are half-lidded.

“Good boy,” Louis reminds him.

Shimmying off the bed and with one last glance over his shoulder, Louis steps into the bathroom, letting the door click shut behind him. He braces his hands over the edge of the sink, sinking forwards and letting his groin press against the cool ceramic for a second as he blows out a steadying breath. It’s been a while since they’ve played but even when they go through phases of playing every day for days at a time, the experience is no less intense. Like a murky forest at the sparrows of dusk, it’s easy to let yourself get lost in it but a challenge to get yourself out of. It’s important for Louis to let Harry wander but for him to keep a clear mind and direction so that he can guide them both back. To make sure they’re both safe. He’s always felt that duty.

They don’t always use condoms. Being in a five year, committed relationship it’s not strictly necessary however Louis strictly will never go without while they’re playing. It’s mostly a cleanliness thing, they usually will fall straight to sleep after a scene so it’s just better if they don’t have to worry about the clean up process.

Lifting his head, Louis meets his own gaze in the mirror. “Get it together, Tomlinson.” He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair before giving his cheek a moderate slap, shaking himself out of it and getting back to action.

True to his word, Harry’s wash bag is on the vanity, resting up against the mirror. Louis swiftly retrieves a condom from the front zip, searching through the main compartment for a second longer, plucking the tube of lube. Running a hand through his hair once more, he takes three more deep breaths before clicking the door to the bedroom back open.

Harry, as expected, has remained spread out where Louis left him. His eyes are closed, lids relaxed. He could almost be mistaken for asleep if it weren’t for the bulge of his bicep as he grips onto the headboard like a lifeline, or the way his toes are curling and uncurling on a repetitive motion. 

When Louis kneels back onto the bed, Harry’s eyes flutter open Louis is stuck in his place for a second by the sheer look of desire in them. Harry is so gone already and he’s just been laying here, body completely pliant, working himself further and further up in Louis’ absence. This whole thing is one big mental game after all, the physical just shadows.

“Keep your hands up there. Don’t move them, okay?” Louis says firmly as he crawls between Harry’s thighs. “Yes baby?”

“Yes, Lou,” Harry promises, squirming a little on the mattress as Louis runs his under the backs of his thighs. He gets the cue though, bending his knees and propping his feet up onto the mattress.

He opens Harry up tenderly, as he always does. He can tell Harry stays right on the edge the entire time as Louis slowly works him open with his fingers, breathing rough and shallow like it always is right when he’s about to come. He doesn’t complain and his grip on the headboard doesn’t dither.

Pushing into Harry with his cock feels long awaited and he groans roughly, burying his face in his neck as he does so. They’re both so worked up by this point that he sets a pretty fast pace immediately, snapping his hips against Harry’s arse and watching his body push further up on the bed.

Harry is punctuating these like _ah_ ’s with each thrust, thighs tight around Louis waist and head tipping back with an angry looking vein bulging from his neck. Louis leans down and nips at it and like instinct, both of Harry’s hands spring down, cradling the back of Louis’ head with a strong hold, keeping him in place.

“No,” Louis warns. He takes Harry’s wrist into his grip, strong and unwavering. The pressure wouldn’t actually hurt him, just simply give him a quick sting and a rush of the right kind of pain. The kind he loves. Louis halts his thrusts, burying himself deep inside of Harry, as he slowly brings Harry’s wrist back to the headboard. A choked sob works its way past Harry’s lips and he digs his nails into the wooden slats. “Keep them up here or I stop. If you let go again, then I stop and leave you like this. I’ll leave you hard and holding onto the headboard all night. Do you want that?”

Louis has begun swirling his hips, cock deep inside of Harry and gyrating directly against his prostate. Tears roll down Harry’s cheeks in a steady steam but his grip on the headboard is unwavering. Louis eyes are stuck on them as he watches the blushed pigment of his nails beds completely drain away in the harsh grip, feels him push his hips back in a fluent rhythm to meet the slow grind Louis’.

“Wanna come,” Harry sobs, shaking his head vehemently.

Louis slips his thumb under the bottom of his collar, wrapping his fingers around the back of his neck. “Be good then,” he warns, digging his fingertips in and slowly picking the pace of his hips back up, though still keeping his thrusts short and deep.

Louis feels crazed. The deeper he lets himself fall into the pleasure, the more drunk he feels off the feeling of power. His head spins as he watches the beautiful man underneath him completely give himself over to him. Flower petals gather around the edges of his body like the most perfect combination of sweet and sexy, the dusty pink colour complimenting his beautifully flushed skin perfectly.

Louis’ orgasm is building quickly and he knows Harry has been hovering right over the edge for a while. He could probably make him come by just asking.

“Want to come, baby?” Louis pants, burying his face in Harry’s neck so his mouth is right by Harry’s ear, words breathed hotly against it. He begins pumping his hips again, hard and fast, Harry’s reaction instantaneous.

“Yes! Please, Lou. Need to come,” he says in that voice that sounds like he’s holding back a sob.

“Make me come first,” Louis says, punctuating it with an unforgivingly hard snap of the hips. Harry cries out, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Make me come and then you can.”

Harry’s fingers twitch against the headboard. His grip wavers for a moment before he’s squeezing the slats so hard between his fist that the veins in his wrists pop out obscenely.

Harry’s eyes are glassy as he nods. He looks crazed, hair wild where its sprawled out across the pillow and face wet with uncontrolled tears as he doubles his efforts. Head thrown back and jaw slack, he begins frantically pushing back against Louis pace, matching his thrusts with vigour, arms held up all the while.

“Make me come, baby,” Louis grunts, hips snapping frantically as he leans down and licks a stripe right up the front of Harry’s throat.

Harry throws his head back obscenely, a gruff moan ripping through him without control as he tightens around Louis. Louis comes, burying his face into Harry’s sweaty neck and feeling his pulse beat erratically as he finally wraps a hand around him as he continues to work his hips into him, through his own orgasm.

It only takes a couple of pulls before Harry is following him over the edge, arms remaining diligently above his head as his back arches off the bed and he’s shaking with the force of his release.

“You’re okay, baby,” Louis breathes into his neck, hips slowing to a stop inside of Harry. He stays on top of him, wanting to remain close to him while he comes down. “So good,” he punctuates with a kiss to the sweaty skin below his jaw. “So good for me, baby. That’s it, gorgeous.”

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly underneath him. “Fuck,” is what he finally manages through his laboured breathing.

Louis snorts, pulling back and taking in the beautifully dishevelled state of the man below him. He’s gazing up at him with gleaming, dazed eyes, jaw slack as he sucks in even, deep breaths, the expanding of his chest accentuated by the elongation of his body with his arms pulled above his head.

“Did so good, baby,” he whispers, leaving a string of kisses across Harry’s cheek as he reaches out to untangle his fingers from the slats of the headboard. Intertwining their fingers, he brings both of their arms down by their sides with a satisfied sigh from Harry.

After a speedy clean-up, a drink of water (and a cheeky few sips of wine), Louis has a very sated Harry wrapped around him, head laid on his chest. He cards his fingers through his curls absentmindedly.

“I needed that a lot,” Harry speaks up after a while of simply holding each other, feeling the closeness and revelling in the presence of each other. Revelling in the moment.

Louis scratches his scalp a little bit as he hums in answer. “I know you did.”

“You knew before I knew,” he yawns, tightening his arms around Louis. “Been needing that for a while, I think.”

“Me too. Been too long.”

Louis peers down at Harry on his chest to see him smiling softly back. The window is open and a grey light casts in through it, lighting up his face. There’s a pause and then, “I love you.”

Louis grins, tightening his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Love you, too. Always.”

“You know,” Harry starts, nuzzling his face further into Louis’ chest. His even breaths tickle the hair between Louis’ pecks. “We kind of wasted an opportunity there. First night in our own flat and we fucked in our room with the door shut like we did every night in our flats. Should’ve fucked on the kitchen counter or something.” He arches both brows. “Couldn’t do that with roommates, could we?”

“You blew me in your kitchen this morning,” Louis deadpans.

Harry huffs a laugh, tired and sated. “At arse o’clock. Was still dark outside. Plus, you just about bit through your knuckle trying to be quiet to avoid waking Niall.” Harry smirks, shooting him a look from beneath his eyelashes. It’s an endearing combination of cute and sexy. “Can make as much noise as we like now.”

Louis hums, running his fingers through Harry’s fringe, pushing the sweaty hair away from his face. “That we can.” Lowering his voice to a hushed whisper he says, “Boy, have I got plans for you.”

“Yeah?” Harry whispers back, eyes lighting up.

“Yep. This was just a warm up, gorgeous. Got the spare room, both the showers, kitchen and dining table, and the couch to go. All need a little love.” He smirks. “A little Christening,” he mocks Harry’s earlier words.

Harry cocks an eyebrow. “We don’t have a couch. Or a dining table.”

“Hey now,” Louis reprimands, giving Harry’s bum a feeble slap. Harry giggles, squirming further into his body. “Don’t go stressing yourself out about this shit again. I just relaxed you.”

“What if I’m still feeling a little stressed?” Harry mocks, grin wide and teasing. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazes up at Louis, cheeky glint in his eye.

Louis smirks. Wrapping both arms around Harry’s upper body, he hooks his leg around the backs of Harry’s knees, flipping them in one fluent motion. “Then maybe we’ll just have to fix that,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into Harry’s neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

Harry sighs under him, wrapping his arm around Louis’ lower back and he rests his entire weight on top of him. It shouldn’t be comfortable, sweat and seaman melding their bodies together in the stuffy room, but it’s warm and familiar and their hearts press together and beat in synchronisation.

Louis loves this. Loves that five years into their relationship, the spark has yet to dim. Their relationship has grown and evolved but they can still tease and flirt like this, like they haven’t been in love for half a decade. Their whole dynamic is so playful and so full of love, it makes his heart swell.

“And they said we wouldn’t last.”

Harry snorts a laugh. “Literally no one said that. Ever.”

“You’re right,” Louis agrees, leaning down and connecting their lips in a chaste kiss. “We’ve always been perfect.”

Harry giggles. His eyes are rimmed red with exhaustion but they’re squinted into two happy slits, the crinkles by the edge of them prominent and so beautiful to Louis. He can’t be blamed when he leans down and kisses them, the right and then the left. He grins, rolling off and tugging a pliant Harry back onto his chest.

Harry sighs contentedly, tangling their feet together and cuddling close. “Can’t believe we’re finally here. Can’t believe I live with my boyfriend.”

“God, I know. So adult,” he shudders with a grimace.

Harry snorts. “You’re 25. The adult ship sailed a long time ago, baby.”

Louis brings his hands up to cover his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut as he childishly chants, “La, la, la, la, la, la. Can’t hear you.”

He digs his teeth into Louis’ nipple on retaliation, Louis’ hands immediately dropping on a yelp to push his mouth away. “You’re such a nuisance.”

“Your nuisance.”

Harry smiles, pressing his nose into Louis’ chest. They’re quiet for a moment, Louis gaze stuck on the content smile on Harry’s lips and the way his eyelashes fan out across the tops of his cheekbones as he rests his tired eyes. He follows the movement of his arm as he reaches over Louis’ chest and picks up a few of the now rumpled flower petals, still gathering around them in the dip they create in the centre of the bed with the weight of their bodies. He giggles at the cheeky look on Harry’s face as he lays one dusty pink petal over each of his nipples.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry replies easily, laying more petals over his chest and stomach. “These were a nice touch.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, genuinely pleased. His chin is tucked into his chest as he watches Harry play with the petals on his torso. “I thought so.”

“Yeah. I almost came when I walked in and saw them.”

Louis snorts, knowing full well that Harry is not kidding. “You’ve been watching too many rom-coms, gorgeous.”

“Never too many.”

“The limit does not exist?”

Harry cocks a brow. “Mean girls? Not a rom-com, babe.”

“We’ve still watched it a billion times, though.” He yawns, tightening his arm around Harry and burying his face in his hair. “How about we call it a night, eh?”

Harry whines, squirming a bit in his hold. “But, you—kitchen counter sex!”

“Let me finish!” Louis giggles, bringing his hand to the back of Harry’s neck and bringing their gazes together. “How about we get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we get up—no alarm—get up, take a nice shower together. Check one off the list,” he giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry rolls his eyes but Louis knows he loves his silly sense of humour. “Go for a little walk, sus out the area, find a nice place to grab a big breakfast, some coffee and then come back and just… take the day off? We got a lot done today, we can just ignore the mess and fuck over every surface if that’s what you want to do. Or just stay in bed and relax. Spend some time getting acquainted with the new space.” He runs his hand up and down Harry’s bicep. “We can unpack at our own pace, yeah? No use getting this wound up about the finer details just yet. We have our whole life, remember?” It’s the phrase that’s calmed Harry the most in this whole process. When things felt too rushed or became a bit too much it was always, _it’s okay, we have our whole life, remember?_

Harry bites down a grin, nodding. “I’d love that. That sounds perfect. Sorry for being so uptight lately.” He waves his hand around in a vague gesture. “You know how I get.”

“Don’t apologise, silly.” Louis rolls his eyes. “We’ve both been stressed. It’s understandable. But, we’re here now! The hard bit is over. We just have to get used to everything, go at our own pace, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “No pressure. It’s just us.”

Louis hums. “Exactly. No one’s expecting an invite around the day after we move in. We sort it out and when we’re happy and settled and whatnot, we invite the boys over, they trash the place and the cycles starts over.” Harry huffs a laugh, shaking his head fondly because he knows that Louis is only _half_ joking. “Then once we’re happy and settled again, we get our families up. Have a proper family housewarming, yeah?”

Harry laces their fingers together, resting them against Louis’ chest. Peering up at Louis, Harry’s eyes look so soft when he says, “We’re like proper family now. Having our parents and siblings over to _our_ house. Hosting them, together. I like it.”

Louis’ smile softens. “Me too,” he whispers, lifting their joined hands to place a delicate kiss on the back of Harry’s wrist. “But you’ve always been my family though, Harry. Been my family for five years. We haven’t lived together but that doesn’t matter because you’ve been my home, too.”

“Mine too.” Harry beams. He sticks his front teeth into his lower lip but it does nothing to dim down his smile. “I’m just so happy.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Louis says, seriously. He punctuates it with a quick kiss. “Now roll over, my little spoon. We both need some rest.”

Harry leans in for one more kiss, humming happily when he turns himself in Louis’ hold and snuggles back into his body. Louis’ arm comes to wrap around his middle, palm flattened on his broad chest. Harry picks it up, brings it to his lips and drops a delicate kiss to the soft skin at the back of his hand.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers, intertwining their fingers and bringing them back down to rest against the top of his stomach, pressing Louis’ close.

Flower petals meld the two together as their bodies seamlessly align. Louis feels at home.

“’Night, my gorgeous petal.”


End file.
